Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Poetry 2019 | Page 80

jiǔ,
pitch black
jet black
onyx black
raisin black
so many words to describe black
yet none fit this black,
the black that surrounds me
the black my head is inside
i hear them
the other pirates
what will we do with him
he betrayed our mother country
for this he must die!
a voice shrieks, above the
din of the crowd
yet this voice is the one of the boy
the cabin boy who wanted
to steal the egg in the first place!
traitor!
i try to scream, but
my mouth has been bound with
dry, tasteless rope
it hurts
i have grown so used to the
limitless, endless
constricting, restricting black
that when it’s gone and
the blue of the sky,
the warmth of the sun’s rays
the turquoise of the sea
return
i am disoriented for a while
i find myself
standing on the plank
a myth it is not
it is real and
i’m on it
i turn around,
screaming but the rope
is in my way again and
tears come out of
desperation but nobody
offers to help
instead they laugh
i see the cabin boy
his guffaw - unmistakable
but his eyes; another story.